


Unbearable

by oldamongdreams



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Build-A-Bear, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Multi, Pack Feels, Pack Meetings, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldamongdreams/pseuds/oldamongdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Holy shit,” Scott said, his eyes wide. “You got Derek to go to Build-A-Bear.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbearable

**Author's Note:**

> No 3B spoilers!

UnBEARable

 

“Come on man, it’s for Allison!”

Stiles had heard that far too many times after the first few months that Scott had met Allison, and usually nothing good followed. Still, he hadn’t ever been able to say no to Scott, and that was how he found himself stuck in the Build-A-Bear in the mall while Scott tried to decide which of the stuffed animals Allison would consider the cutest.

“Get her that one, it kinda looks like you,” Stiles had joked after seeing a dark brown bear with big eyes. Scott had laughed him off, leaving Stiles to peruse the increasingly strange collection of doll clothes the store had, from pink flip flops to little black leather jackets.

Stiles grinned when he saw the jacket. “Hey, Scott, how much do you do you think Derek would hate me if—” Scott was already on the other side of the store and Stiles picked up the little jacket before heading over to the selection of animals.

 

“What the hell is that?” Jackson asked when he stepped inside the Hale house, pizza in hand.

“That’s Derek, isn’t it obvious?” Stiles said with a grin, taking the pizza boxes and looking inside. “I asked for pepperoni, you asshole, what is this shit?”

“It’s olive and green pepper with extra cheese. Next time get your own damn pizza. And that’s a bear with paper eyebrows and a leather jacket.” Jackson paused, considering it. “You know, it does kinda look like him, now that I think about it. Is he going to kill you?”

“No, he’s going to be grateful that I thought of my alpha while shopping with Scott. Now shut up, Alison’s picking the movie this week. You brought the pizza, even if it’s totally inadequate. Scott forgot the soda, so sit down and shut up if you don’t want me to ask you to go get it.”

Jackson gave Stiles a withering glare before on the furthest corner of the couch, away from Alison, Scott, and Isaac, who were whispering about something that was making Isaac blush, curled up so that they were as close as possible without being indecent.  

Lydia glanced at Jackson only once before turning back to _The Princess Bride,_ and Stiles felt a brief flash of pity for the other boy, a feeling that disappeared the moment Jackson opened his mouth again.

“So is this your way of finally professing your love to Derek? Not that I care about your feelings, but he could use a good—”

“What the hell is that?” Derek’s voice drowned out the end of Jackson’s statement, and Stiles jumped.

“It’s you,” Stiles said in delight, and everyone else sighed.

 

The pack meeting ended as they often did, with arguments breaking out and Derek ordering them all out of his house before he killed them one by one.

Stiles lingered after everyone else had left, and scratched the back of his head with the arm not holding his hoodie. “Sorry if that was awkward. Scott was getting one for Allison, and the jacket looked like yours, so…” he trailed off and shrugged.

Derek looked over at the bear, which was now pinned to the table by a penknife. “I’m only going to say this once. We are not in the kind of relationship where you need to get me fuzzy toys.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, sourwolf. I’m basically the den mother here, you know. Hell, I buy half your groceries. Don’t come crying to me when you don’t have anyone to snuggle with at night.” He paused, briefly. “Anything! I meant, the bear, obviously, and I’m just gonna let myself out down, I know exactly where the door is and I’m just going to close it behind me now before you kill me with your eyebrows.”

Stiles hadn't expected Derek to say thanks or anything, but there was a heaviness to his steps as he walked back to the jeep. Maybe it was that Erika and Boyd weren't there anymore to keep Derek from fighting with everyone, or maybe it was knowing that whatever he did to try to hold his friends together it would not replace the emptiness that was still so present in the group. Lydia and Scott where there because they had to be, Jackson and Allison because of Derek and Scott. Were the members of the pack left to their own devices, something told Stiles it would be only him and Derek at these movie nights, and that didn't bear thinking about.

So he didn't like the toy Stiles had bought him. Big deal, it had been meant as a joke anyway, not anything that needed to be taken seriously. Stabbing it had been harsh, perhaps, but that's just Derek.

Stiles crawled into bed and debated texting Scott. It was a Friday, though, and Fridays were Isaac's night off now, which meant that Scott would still be with him and Allison, so long as Chris hadn't realized she was out. Somehow, even though there were more people in his life now than ever before, Stiles didn't have anyone to spend Friday nights with for the first time in a long time. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

"Lydia. It's Stiles. I know it's last minute and we just saw each other at the meeting, but do you want to hang out? You can pick the movie, or I can buy you dinner. Just as friends, I mean. It doesn't have to be weird."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, and Stiles debated just hanging up. "Yeah, all right," Lydia said finally. "But only because you sound pathetic and I have nothing pressing happening tonight. I'll bring food, and alcohol. You go pick up the second season of _Suits_. And you're going to sit and watch it without complaining, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Stiles replied smartly. He could almost hear Lydia roll her eyes as she hung up on him.

"Dad, I'm going to rent a movie," Stiles yelled down the stairs. "Lydia's going to come over and watch something."

John Stilinski stared at his son. “Lydia Martin? The girl you’ve been in love with since third grade? The one who didn’t acknowledge your existence until after she escaped from the hospital a few months ago? That Lydia?”

Stiles nodded slowly. “Yes?” He said, drawing out the word.

“I’m not as oblivious as you’d like to think, son,” John said after a lengthy pause.

“That’s great, dad. Since you’re, you know, the Sheriff, I’m really glad to hear that. Good on you. I’m just going to go now, be back in fifteen, if Lyds gets back before me let her in, thanks!” Stiles fled from the accusing look on his father’s face.

When he returned, Lydia was sitting on his bed, arms crossed as she surveyed the room ambivalently.

“Door open, Stiles,” his dad called from down the stairs, and Stiles winced as he looked at Lydia.

“Hey, um, sorry I’m late,” he said, dropping the bag from the rental place on the floor.

“You know, I think I’m the only one who hasn’t been in here yet,” she said in return, looking around. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Stiles looked around his own room and worried his knuckles between his teeth. “Let me clean up,” he said, throwing a few things into his closet quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to, you know, be in my bedroom.”

“I’ve never been in here,” Lydia repeated with a shrug. “Scott and Derek practically live here, to hear them talk about it. Even Allison and Isaac have been here a few times.”

“You know, six months ago all you would have had to say was ‘Hey, Stiles, let me see your room,’” Stiles pointed out with a grin.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Whatever, perv. Give me the bag, I don’t trust your laptop.” She pulled a sleek laptop out of a red case and held out her hand. Stiles complied and handed it over before sliding onto the bed beside Lydia, wrapping an arm around her back.

“Off,” she said, giving him the same look that kept people out of her way at school, and Stiles pulled his arm back.

“Right, sorry. You’re a girl and you’re in my bed, you can’t expect me to not give it a try.”

“And if you start that misogynistic bullshit again, I’ll break your nose,” Lydia said cheerfully as she queued up the first episode. “Besides, we both know you stopped carrying a torch for me ages ago.”

“You’ll always be first in my heart,” Stiles said cheerfully, leaning over to place a kiss on her cheek, which she just as easily avoided.

“Yeah, yeah. Eat your pasta.” Lydia pushed a take-out container toward him before taking one for herself. “So, what the hell are you doing lying in bed on a Friday night, moping?”

“Scott’s with Allison and Isaac. I mean, he’d let me come over, but I’d just be a third, or, forth I guess, wheel. Didn’t feel like going to the Jungle and dealing with Danny cornering me to ask about Jacks—er, people, again. And I figured, you know, that maybe you would want to hang out with someone you didn’t have to pretend around.”

“And what makes you think I’m not pretending right now?”

“You remembered my name and had me pick up the second season of a show about lawyers, not some romantic comedy. And, you know, there’s the fact that you said you’d come over in the first place. Which you’ve never done before.”

There were a few minutes of comfortable silence before Lydia put her food aside and bumped her arm against Stiles. “I’m going to stop coming to the pack meetings. I don’t belong there. I don’t even know if I’m coming back to school after this year. It might be better if Jackson and I are just…you know.”

“You can’t leave!” Stiles said, putting his own food to the side and turning toward Lydia. “I mean, you can totally stop coming to the meetings, I’ll talk to Derek. You can go back to the way things were six months ago, if you really want to.”

“You know I can’t. Not knowing what’s out there. Not knowing that there’s still more to find out.”

“Then you shouldn’t leave either. I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge, after all.”

Lydia’s eyes glinted, and she pulled out a bottle of wine from her purse. “Alright, I’ll think about it. Later. Right now you’re going to drink this with me, and then we’re going to ignore feelings and watch crappy television until we can’t anymore. Understand?”

Stiles passed Lydia a paper cup and poured them both a glass without complaining.

When Stiles woke up it was still dark outside, and Lydia Martin was curled up against him. The clock said it was just past one in the morning, and Lydia’s laptop was closed and tucked against their legs.

“Lydia, wake up,” Stiles whispered, sitting up and moving the clutter to his floor. “Come on, if you’re going to stay here at least get under the blanket.” He nudged her until she moved her feet under the blankets before curling up, leaving a few inches between them.

“Don’t think this means anything,” Lydia said sleepily, leaning against Stiles. “Don’t want to drive back in the dark.”

Privately, Stiles thought that if Lydia really didn’t want to be there, she would have left when the show ended, or wouldn’t have brought wine. She definitely wouldn’t have fallen asleep in his bed. “Is this a pack thing?”

“No.” Her voice was flat and even. “But sometimes  they get something right.” Her words were nearly a whisper now, and Stiles had to strain to listen. “I just want someone to hold me without wondering what they want.”

Stiles didn’t reply except to wrap one arm around Lydia. “Sleep well,” he said quietly, closing his eyes.

 

“Stiles, man, wake up, I saw the coolest movie last night, you’ll love it and holy shit Lydia Martin is in your bed!”

Stiles blinked sleepily at Scott before sitting up, glancing over at Lydia, who was still sleeping. “Yeah, she came over last night and we watched _Suits._ We both had nothing better to do.” Stiles gave Scott a pointed look, which he shrugged off.

“Stiles had nothing better to do,” Lydia corrected, though she didn’t turn to face Scott. “I felt sorry for him.”

“Scott, I love you, but why are you here?”

“Right, your dad called and asked me to check on you since you weren’t answering your phone. And I found this on your porch.” Scott held up a cardboard box that had Stiles’ name written across the top in blocky print. “Please open it, man, the suspense is killing me.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and took the box from Scott, struggling briefly with the tape before pulling it open. Inside was a stuffed monkey wearing a lacrosse uniform and holding a plastic cell phone.

“Holy shit,” Scott said, his eyes wide. “You got Derek to go to Build-A-Bear.”

Stiles stared blankly at the box, eyes wide, before Lydia took it from his unresisting hands.

“Look, there’s a little birth certificate. Hell of a first name though, I almost feel bad for you both.”

Stiles took the piece of paper and stuck it under his laptop, glaring at Lydia. “You never saw that,” he said, taking the monkey from Lydia. “Shit, look at this thing. I guess he liked the bear more than he let on, or maybe he felt bad for stabbing it or something. Maybe this is how Derek apologizes now, instead of just grunting at you.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Lydia said under her breath, and Stiles elbowed her.

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast. Stiles Jr here could probably use a nap anyway.” Stiles pushed out of the bed and shoved Scott affectionately, moving him toward the door. “We’ll meet you downstairs, Lyds.”

“Don’t call me that!” Lydia yelled after them.

Stiles paced around the kitchen while Scott rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. “But what do you think this means?” He asked for the third time. “Do you think he’s been abducted?”

“Why would he have been abducted?” Scott asked as he pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it? And just yesterday he told me that we didn’t have the kind of relationship that involved giving each other stuffed toys!”

“Maybe he’s saying he wants to change your relationship then.”

‘Or maybe it’s a threat. Maybe there’s a weapon concealed in it. Or maybe it’s full of spiders.”

“Stiles, sit down and eat the damn eggs.”

Stiles turned to see Lydia coming down the stairs, and he beamed at her. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said cheerfully.

Lydia ignored him and pushed Scott out of the way so she could add pepper to the eggs. “I think you should go see Derek. See what it is he meant by this, instead of making up stupid theories. Do you even know it’s _from_ Derek?”

“Um, yeah,” Scott said with a little frown. “His scent is all over it.”

“Then _go._ Get out. Leave.” Lydia muttered something under her breath and Stiles smirked.

“What’s that, Lyds? Need some coffee?”

“Yes I need some coffee, you ingrate. But you are going to take this thing,” she brandished the stuffed monkey at him, “and go before I have to listen to you anymore. Not you,” she added, pointing at Scott. “You’re going to stay here and make me some coffee.”

Stiles ducked out of the line of fire, taking Stiles Jr from Lydia’s hands and retreating upstairs to get dressed in clean clothes. When he returned downstairs, Lydia and Scott were pointedly not looking at each other.

“Lydia’s right,” Scott said, but it sounded like the words were forced. “You should go.”

“Alright,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I’ll be back soon. Scott, you’re welcome to hang. Lydia, if my dad gets back ignore anything he tells you about me.”

Derek was outside on the porch when Stiles arrived. He didn’t seem surprised to see Stiles.

“What the hell, Derek?” Stiles yelled as he opened the door of his jeep, letting the engine stall. “What is this?”

Derek waited until Stiles was standing in front of him before answering. “It’s you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I can see that, really. But why did you make it?”

Derek shrugged and opened the door, obviously done with the conversation.

Stiles followed him inside, still talking. “Yesterday you were telling me not to buy you stuffed toys and now you’re leaving them on my doorstep. What does this even mean?”

“You smell like Lydia,” Derek interjected with a frown.

“Yeah, she came over to watch movies last night. Everyone else was busy. Also does my room smell weird, because Lydia was being weird about everyone else having been in it but her.”

Derek shrugged. “You room smells like pack, just like the house. It’s not a bad smell.”

Stiles blinked, distracted by that information. “Does that mean I smell like pack, if I spend most of my time there or here?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes you smell like your friends at school. Usually you smell like Scott and your dad and yourself.”

Stiles sat down on the couch, momentarily distracted. “But you guys don’t scent me that often. Not like you do with each other, in your big wolfy puppy piles.”

“Only because you were weird about it. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. It doesn’t mean you’re not pack.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, “but what about the monkey?”

“Do you like it?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s a little weird, but it was a nice gesture. I just don’t understand why you did it.”

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“Yeah, sourwolf, we do. I don’t like not understanding things.”

Derek turned away from Stiles and sighed. “I fixed the bear. Stitched it up and replaced the shirt. But I still felt bad for doing that in front of the others.”

“So what you’re saying is that this is your apology for undermining me in front of your cubs?” Stiles asked teasingly.

“And if it was?”

“Then that’s pretty weird, man.” Derek stiffened, and Stiles grinned. “Lucky for you,  I’m part of a werewolf pack. I’m used to weird, especially from you.” He took a step forward and brushed his lips against Derek’s cheek before pulling away. “Thanks, sourwolf. I’ll catch you later.” At Derek’s thunderstruck face, Stiles’ grin only grew wider.

 

“Dude, I’ve been your friend for eight years now. I’m not the mom,” Stiles said with a laugh. He and Scott were outside Derek’s house, arms full of pizza and movies.

“You are though. It’s not a new thing either, you’ve been taking care of me for years,” Scott argued. “You get me into a lot of shit, but then you get us both out of it with minimal damage. You’re totally the responsible one.”

“I am not the mom!” Stiles yelled, just as Derek opened the door.

“Yes you are,” Scott said with a grin, ducking past Derek. “And Derek’s totally the dad.”

“Only in that you’re secretly craving his approval,” Stiles shouted at Scott’s retreating back before smiling at Derek. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hey,” Derek said in return. He took the pizza from Stiles and grabbed his hand, towing him to the kitchen. Once the food was safely on the counter he leaned it, trapping Stiles with his arms. “You owe me a proper kiss,” he said with a grin.

Stiles laughed. “Do I, now?” he leaned in a pressed his lips against Derek’s, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck.

“Scott, you owe me ten bucks!” came a shout from behind them, and Stiles pulled away from Derek, his cheeks pink.

“No way!” came Scott’s protest from the kitchen.

“Yeah, you really do,” she replied smugly, grinning at Stiles.

“Shut up, Lyds,” Stiles replied, leaning in to kiss Derek one more time before grabbing a slice of pizza. “Did you bring drinks this time, or should I get Derek to make Jackson do it?”

“Hey!” yelled Jackson from the main room.

“I did,” Lydia said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “So Stiles, what’s in the bag?”

Stiles grinned and flopped back onto the couch, dragging Derek with him and sticking his feet on Scott’s lap. “It’s something for Derek.”

Derek raised his eyebrows and took the bag from Stiles. “It’s from Build-A-Bear, isn’t it?” he asked with a sigh.

“Shut up, you love me,” Stiles replied loftily, watching Derek pull a black plush car out of the bag.

“See?” he said excitedly. “So Derek Jr can be pretentious in his driving choices too.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Only going to say this once, Stiles. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Whatever,” Stiles said loftily, pressing a kiss to Derek’s cheek. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in a slightly better world where Build-a-Bear doesn't support Autism Speaks, because I cannot support a charity that actively harms autistic folks. 
> 
> You can find me online at oldamongdreams.tumblr.com.  
> This fic was beta'd by the lovely CaptainOfLifeAndLemons.


End file.
